Anger and Apologies
by nothingbutgoneness
Summary: "He stopped arguing with Cooper, but his anger didn't go away...He found himself shutting his boyfriend out, and he had no idea why." Blaine's pissed, Kurt's hurt, and they're both confused. T for language and sex talk. TUMBLR: klainebowsandquirrelmort


**Anger and Apologies**

Now that he was on better terms with his older brother, Blaine thought that he'd be happier. He would work _with_ Cooper instead of against him, and the atmosphere wouldn't be so tense. Everything should be better.

But it wasn't. He stopped arguing with Cooper, but his anger didn't go away. It merely shifted. He found himself shutting his boyfriend out, and he had no idea why. The stuffed dog Kurt had given him from Six Flags pouted at him from where it hung at the top of his locker, but he could only glare back. What was his problem? He had no earthly idea, and he was too pissed to figure it out. He felt guilty every time he ignored a text or swallowed back a snappy retort. God, they hadn't kissed in _three days_, and Blaine knew Kurt had noticed.

He was fully prepared to just let the situation be—until the object of his inexplicable anger leaned against the locker beside his open one. "Hey, beautiful boyfriend," Kurt said lightly.

Blaine refrained from rolling his eyes. "Hey," he responded shortly. He finished stuffing his calculus book into his bag and slammed his locker shut. He spun on his heel and stalked off without another word.

He had barely made it ten feet down the hall before a strong hand on his elbow jerked him sideways into a janitor's closet. The door snapped shut and Blaine was doused in darkness. He had only a second to flash back to freshman year before the lights flipped on. He ignored the overwhelming stench of bleach to glare at Kurt. "What the hell?"

Kurt crossed his arms and glared right back. "I was going to ask you the same question. Why the hell are you so pissed at me?" When Blaine didn't answer, Kurt snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Why don't you ask the _best-looking man in North America_?" Blaine snarled.

_Where did _that_ come from? _Both boyfriends stared, stunned. They processed Blaine's outburst for a long moment. Then Kurt lifted a shaking hand to Blaine's cheek, but the younger boy jerked to avoid it. "Blaine…" Kurt sounded broken, but Blaine couldn't bring himself to care. "I just did."

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, holding tight when Blaine tried to yank it back. "I said, I just _did _ask the best-looking man in North America."

Blaine snorted. "You were singing a different tune at the beginning of the week." He felt perverse satisfaction at the guilty look that flashed across Kurt's face. "My brother waltzes in here, with his big smile and his big career and his Disney prince looks, and all of a sudden I don't fucking _exist_ anymore!" Okay, now he was starting to feel guilty. He could see the pain in Kurt's eyes, and when did he start swearing? But Blaine's mouth was moving far faster than his brain and he couldn't stop it if he tried. "He taught that class—what a goddamn _joke_! He can't act worth shit, but all of you—_all of you_—ate it up like he'd won an Oscar or something. I mean, it's not like I'm _surprised_; it's always been about Cooper. He's the smart, funny, personable, attractive, _straight_ one, and I'm the awkward one who likes boys and gets the shit kicked out of him at dances. I'm no one's favorite, easy to forget.

"But I thought, I _hoped_, that you, my boyfriend, would see through his bullshit and…I don't know, pick me or something. But you didn't. You fell for it and you picked him and it _hurt_, it fucking _hurt_. I know I'm not good enough for everyone else, but, god, I'd hoped I'd be good enough for _you_."

By the time he was finished, Blaine's entire body was tensed for a fight. His blood rushed with adrenaline, and hard tears clouded his vision. He had backed himself into a corner between a shelving unit stacked with empty buckets and a broken filing cabinet. He stared up at Kurt with more hurt than anger, and he struggled to catch his breath.

Kurt stood with his back against the door, a hand clapped over his mouth and tears flowing freely. Blaine felt ashamed for acting so irrationally, and he hung his head.

Two arms engulfed him, and he sobbed into Kurt's shoulder, pulling the two of them to the ground. Hands rubbed up and down his shaking back, and a soft voice whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I'm so sorry."

After a long while, Blaine pulled back and brushed his tears away with a breathy laugh. "Sorry, I guess I just—"

"No!" Blaine's eyes widened at Kurt's forceful interruption. "No, Blaine. You don't get to be sorry, because you did _nothing _wrong. _I_ was wrong. I made you feel like less than the perfect person you are, and that is unacceptable. You are _not _inferior to Cooper. You are crazy intelligent—you're taking nearly all AP classes and you got straight As at _Dalton_. Your voice is a gift from _angels_, Blaine." The younger boy chuckled softly again and looked down. "I watched you during _West Side Story_, and you weren't SCREAMING YOUR LINES or pointing unnecessarily. You are talented, and you are going to rock the world.

"Look at me." Kurt dragged Blaine's chin upward to connect their gazes. "I've had _sex _with you, Blaine." The boy in question choked slightly. "I've seen you naked, and I've touched every inch of you. You go beyond attractive. _You are beautiful._ You are a work of art, and I could never be attracted to anyone else."

"But Cooper—"

"Fuck Cooper! Yes, he's hot, it's clearly a family thing. But at the end of the day, the only man I think about is you. _The only man I want _is you.

"I got star-struck when I met Cooper, Blaine. I'm not trying to excuse my behavior, because I _really _screwed up, but it's true. I met Cooper and freaked out. I let my…enthusiastic appreciation for his commercials compromise my judgment. You think I don't look back and think about how stupid I was? Blaine, I hate to tell you this, but your brother is a _terrible actor_." Blaine let out his first real laugh. "And I'm sorry I didn't see that right away. I'm sorry that I let you get pushed to the back burner. I should have recognized the family issues you were having and I should have been there for you. I love you, and you deserve so much better than what I gave you this week. Can you please forgive me?"

Blaine looked up at Kurt's worried face. For a moment, he couldn't say anything. Then, without warning, he grabbed the older boy and pulled him down for a searing kiss. They both sighed in relief. "God, it's been far too long," Blaine breathed against Kurt's lips, their foreheads touching.

"I'm sorry," Kurt whispered again.

Blaine pressed a light kiss to Kurt's nose and smiled. "It's okay. _It's okay_, I promise. I understand being…_star-struck_ by my brother. For a lot of years, I was too. But I don't want to dig up my past with my brother. Right now, I just want to get out of this goddamn closet, drive home, and have really, really great makeup sex."

Kurt let his teeth graze down Blaine's earlobe, growling, "I think I can get into that." He stood up and dragged Blaine to his feet. The two exited the tiny room, and Kurt giggled. "Never thought I'd have to come out of the closet again."

"Shut up." The two of them carefully navigated the halls to avoid the faculty, making a mad dash for the cars once they hit the parking lot.

Yes, it was going to be a _great_ afternoon.

* * *

So, this takes place right after "Big Brother." I meant to publish it this weekend, but I didn't finish writing until this morning, so...yeah. Some Blangst, some sorry!Kurt, and some sexytimes at the end. What's not to love?

That's all I have to say right now, other than I'm not a fraction as excited for "Saturday Night Glee-ver" as I was for "Big Brother." Though "You Should Be Dancing" is amazing. Sassygay!Blaine, what more could a girl ask for?

Chapter 66 of _A Very Klaine Summer_ is coming up in a few, so if you read that, stay tuned!

This story is COMPLETE. FINISHED. DONE. ONE-SHOT. Why am I telling you this? Because I am asking you to not put this on Story Alert. I keep every single alert email I get from FF, and it's a pain in the ass to do so. Every time I ask people to not put something on Story Alert, one smart ass goes and does it anyways. Please, don't be an asshole.

TUMBLR IS klainebowsandquirrelmort.

(PS: You got a phone call, mothafucka.)


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